Halia's POV
I woke with a jolt, breath hitching like I'd surfaced from drowning. My heart thundered against my ribs, slick with sweat, sheets tangled like vines around my legs.
The dream—
Still alive in my skin.
His touch lingered like smoke. The press of his body. His voice, low and rough, curling in my ears like a secret meant only for me.
I didn't know his name. But my body did.
I pressed both hands to my face. My fingers trembled. I could still feel him—like he'd branded me from the inside out.
God, it felt real. Too real.
I forced myself to sit up. The sheets peeled back.
That's when I saw it.
Blood.
A deep, dark bloom on the sheet where I'd been lying.
I froze.
No. No, no, no—
I blinked. Rubbed my eyes. Looked again. Still there.
My stomach dipped like a trapdoor opened beneath me. I pressed a hand to my lower abdomen.
No pain. Just an ache. Deep. Ancient.
Was I—? No. You don't lose your virginity in dreams.
But I remembered the way he held me. The heat. The way I moved with him like I'd done it before. Like my body remembered him. Claimed him.
I shifted, and a sharp sting pulsed between my thighs. I hissed.
I reached down instinctively. Still tender.
My heart stuttered.
No. This isn't possible. This isn't—
I yanked the sheets off and stuffed them into the laundry basket, like burying the evidence might bury the truth. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely carry them.
The mirror caught me—wide-eyed, pale, hair sticking to my face.
I didn't look like me.
I didn't feel like me.
I stripped in the bathroom, staring at the faint rust-colored smear along my inner thigh. My skin prickled. My pulse fluttered like a trapped bird.
Was it shame? Was it fear? Or something else—something… older?
The water came on too hot. Steam swallowed the mirror.
I stood under the spray and scrubbed until my skin stung, as if I could wash him off me. But it didn't help.
His scent was still there. Wild. Earthy. Like pine and fire and rain.
I pressed my forehead to the tile.
What's happening to me?
When I stepped out, my skin was flushed, raw. I wiped the mirror. My reflection stared back, eyes darker than I remembered.
Had they always looked like that?
A sudden tingle crawled up my spine.
I glanced at the window. The morning light filtered through the curtain—but for a split second, it looked like moonlight. Cold. White. Watching.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Maggie:Shopping, babe? I need retail therapy and overpriced smoothies. Come save me from myself.
A shaky laugh escaped me. Maggie. Loud. Normal. Blunt as hell.
Exactly what I needed.
I pulled on my black jeans and oversized hoodie. Layered myself like armor.
When I opened my door, Mom called from the kitchen, "Halia? You're up early."
"Going to the mall with Maggie," I said, trying to sound casual.
A pause. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just… needed air."
She didn't push. "Text me when you get there."
I nodded and left.
Outside, the world was still turning. Birds. Wind. Normal sounds.
But I wasn't normal.
Something inside me had cracked open—and it wasn't closing.
The mall welcomed me with a whoosh of cold air and the smell of cinnamon, plastic, and coffee. People buzzed around like nothing was wrong.
Maggie spotted me from across the food court, waving like a maniac. "HALIA! You look like you fought your sleep demon and lost."
I gave her a weak smile.
She linked her arm through mine and pulled me toward a bench. "Okay, spill. You never look this existential before noon."
I hesitated. Then, "I had a dream. About… someone. A man. I don't know him, but it felt real. Too real. And when I woke up—"
My voice faltered. I looked away.
"There was blood."
Maggie blinked. "Okay. Whoa. Blood-blood? Not just, y'know, monthly drama?"
"I know my cycle, Mags. This was different. And I… hurt. Like I actually—"
I stopped, swallowing hard.
She didn't laugh. That surprised me.
"Did you feel… scared? Or… like it was a nightmare?"
"No. That's the weird part. I wasn't afraid. I was…"
Claimed. Marked. Changed.
"...like I knew him. Like he was supposed to find me."
Maggie leaned back, expression unreadable. "You know, this sounds like one of those werewolf romance books you secretly read."
I gave a tight laugh. "Maybe I've finally cracked."
She nudged me. "Or maybe you're part wolf. I always knew you had the bite."
I rolled my eyes, but I smiled. She was trying. That counted.
We wandered through the mall. Maggie chattered about crop tops and annoying influencers. I nodded along, but my mind buzzed.
Every sound felt louder. Every scent sharper. The perfume counter made my nose burn. I could hear a baby crying two stores down.
What is happening to me?
And then—
A flicker of motion.
I turned.
A man. Tall. Hooded. Just far enough away. He stopped mid-step, like he knew I was watching. His head tilted.
Our eyes met.
My breath left me.
Him.
Those eyes—deep, storm-colored. The kind that knew secrets you hadn't told yet.
I blinked—
He was gone.
But the echo of him lingered. Like a scent on the wind.
And suddenly, the blood, the dream, the ache—they weren't just memories.
They were warnings.
Something had found me.
And it wasn't finished.